


Bang Bang

by liketolaugh



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Autistic Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Connor is like 5 percent verbal this whole fic be warned, Crying, Gen, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 18:02:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,231
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20492975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liketolaugh/pseuds/liketolaugh
Summary: Around half an hour after Markus makes his victory speech, Chris finds Connor hiding out of the way, not nearly as happy as the situation would seem to call for. They don’t know each other well, but Chris does what he can.





	Bang Bang

Chris was patrolling the perimeter of the androids’ (well-earned) celebration, more like guarding a march than anything at this point, when he found Connor tucked away in a corner, well out of sight of anyone attending the main body of the meeting.

His body language, Chris noticed immediately, was drastically different from anything Chris had seen from him so far – closed off, defensive, rigid in a way that spoke of raw, poorly hidden vulnerability. His coin, which Hank had complained about before, flashed between his fidgeting hands, Connor’s eyes on it with unwarranted laser focus. His LED was a solid, harsh crimson.

He looked upset.

The dissonance between Connor’s behavior and recent events had Chris coming to a halt a few comfortable yards from the android, concern demanding that he get answers, if not comfort the other. He cleared his throat, keeping his palms open and well away from his gun, shoulders loose.

Connor didn’t look up – Chris might have thought he hadn’t heard, if his shoulders hadn’t hunched further, his focus on the coin redoubling.

“Hey,” Chris started awkwardly, and then decided that if androids were empathetic enough to show mercy, then they were empathetic enough to deserve compassion. He softened his tone into something deliberately gentle. “Shouldn’t you be out celebrating with the rest? This is a happy day for you too.”

For a long moment, Connor didn’t outwardly react to Chris’ words. Then, eventually, he nodded jerkily. Despite this, he didn’t make any move to stand, nor had Chris really expected him to. For one reason or another, Connor was not in the mood to celebrate.

Chris stepped closer. Nothing threatening, just a foot or two, and if he noticed, Connor didn’t outwardly react.

“Is it the close call?” he ventured, taking a shot in the dark. “Things were really tight there for a bit. That would scare anyone, even if you weren’t there for it.”

Connor shook his head, the same rapid, ill-controlled movement, and then nodded. He looked overwhelmed, words apparently beyond him for the moment. Chris approached again, coming close enough this time to sit on the ground across from where Connor had pressed himself into an available corner.

The coin disappeared into parts unknown in favor of Connor crossing his arms over his chest, a classic defensive gesture that looked just as much like he was trying to hold himself together. Too close, but only just, Chris guessed. Connor didn’t look up, either, wound tight enough to shatter a spring.

Connor had worked miracles with Hank, this past week, and he was a riot to watch with Reed. Seeing him like this – seeing anyone like this, really – it didn’t sit right.

“Officer Miller,” Connor greeted belatedly, voice breathy and tight under the strain of unfathomable emotion.

“Hey, Connor,” Chris returned easily, keeping himself deliberately relaxed. “I saw you up on the stage. Pretty impressive.”

Connor’s bright red LED didn’t waver, nor did his arms loosen across his chest. But his eyes squeezed shut, as if to will Chris’ words out of existence. His mouth opened for a moment as if to reply, and then shut again.

“You did good,” Chris persisted, wanting that overwrought tension to drain out of the man in front of him. “You should be proud of yourself.”

Without opening his eyes, Connor shook his head, and then shook it again.

“No,” Connor managed, raw and stressed. “I-” His voice cut off and he did not continue.

“Yeah?” Chris prompted gently, patient.

“I’m _not,” _Connor rasped.

Chris had guessed that much, but it was still puzzling. “Why not? You did a good thing, and not an easy one.”

Connor inhaled, deep and shuddering, for the first time this whole conversation, and for a while he did not answer. Chris started to wonder if he would at all; they were nearly strangers, after all. But then he did, abrupt and rushed out all at once, clearly a struggle to manage at all.

“I wasn’t deviant three days ago.”

Chris blinked at him, taking a moment to parse that and another to understand, and then admitted that it didn’t make much sense to him. In the light of that, his tone was a little more careful as he said, “I’m sure a lot of these other guys weren’t either. All the ones you brought, for one, right? I’m sure you’re in good company.”

“Officer.” The word came out warped and almost loud, Connor’s eyes opening and focused on something in the middle distance, wild with something like desperation, while his body pressed further back into the corner as if to compensate. Insistent, helpless, he repeated, _“I wasn’t deviant three days ago.”_

“I know, I remember,” Chris was quick to assure him, unsure why this was important but understanding that it was. And he did – three days ago, Connor was talking about how if he just had more time, he could- oh.

Three days ago, Connor had still been determined to put a permanent end to deviancy if it was the last thing he ever did.

_Four _days ago, Connor had shot a deviant in the head without hesitation, and a week ago, he had dragged in an abused android for interrogation and decommissioning.

Connor was rocking, quick and shallow. Chris didn’t think he’d noticed. His hands were twisted in the opposite sleeves of his clean android jacket, and his eyes darted across the asphalt, jittery and panicked.

“But you are now,” Chris heard himself say, knowing it wouldn’t make anything better but wanting to provide what reassurance he could.

Then, not entirely unexpectedly, Connor broke, all at once and nearly silent. His breath left him in a wheezing gasp, and he curled forward too late to hide the tears that had started to spill over, rearranging himself to pull his knees against his chest and curl his hands against his calves. He hid his face against his legs and started to shake.

Connor, it turned out, cried quietly, hitching gasps and cut whines that were likely inaudible to anyone further away than Chris, sat frozen across from the overstressed android. He cried like a child that had been taught not to.

Chris hesitated, helpless and almost confused, and an uncomfortably long moment passed before he slowly scooted forward, one hand rising cautiously. He gave Connor enough time to move away – he didn’t – and then set it on his shoulder, uncertain how much reassurance was welcome from someone Connor barely knew.

“It’s alright,” he muttered uncomfortably, concerned eyes on the man beside him. “You’re safe, Connor. You’re fine.”

Connor’s breath caught harshly, and he leaned into the touch, still shaking with hidden tears.

Chris decided, just this once, to do away with propriety, and shifted close enough to move his hand to Connor’s back, rubbing gentle circles there in what comfort he could offer.

“That’s it, Connor,” he murmured, just loud enough for Connor to catch. “It’s over. Everything is going to be okay.”

Connor didn’t stop crying, but he leaned into the offered comfort like a dying man, and after a minute, his LED fell from red to yellow, and the shaking slowed a little. As much as anything had that week, that made the whole thing real, and for the second time, Chris promised himself he’d do what he could to help.

At this point, he couldn’t forgive himself for anything less.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this impulsively around one in the morning. I didn't even have an outline because when I started to try and write the outline, I wrote the fic instead. Sadly, three AM isn't optimal posting time, so you're getting it now instead. :)


End file.
